The anthill effect took over in the poker room last night. People conjestion, noise, confusion, and above all else, the sounds of poker. The night seemed endless. I know I was at each table for one and half hours, not the usual half hour down…or I stepped into a lateral universe. Wish I’d been on drugs, it would have eased the night and I wouldn’t have felt as if I’d been dropped kicked out on the freeway right in front of a long haul truck parade. Is this aging? Ouch! My whole body hurt when I hit the time clock.

Some of the high spots.

I got to visit with Danny/player/reader here on one of my breaks. He’s cute and interesting to talk to…amazingly well rounded and thinking for a youngster that plays high limit poker.

Table 1…of course it was in my way…mostly the usual suspects, $1,000-$2,000 still playing the ‘usual mixed games’, still talking about the celebrity invitational poker event going on at the Palms…the same one they were discussing and taking bets on last night…only tonight was the finale. This Down went off without a hitch. I spent most of it dealing, intent on every detail of the game to keep myself out of trouble, and listening to them. They are pretty funny at times.

Table 2…Sammy F. and Gabriel, 5s, playing $100-$200 Blind NLH. They both had a lady sweater behind them. Sammy was in the 1s and had me laughing. He’s the master of conversational shuck and jive.

They kibitzed back and forth about how one of them had been winning, then the other was winning, now they were about even, and the fact that Sammy had picked up A-A, during their heads-up play, four times. During my down, he picked them up three more times, along with Q-Q, and Presto (5-5). He never got any action on them. Gabriel escaped each time.

Sammy started showing me his hand, “I’m going to show Linda. I know she won’t tell you.”

He was right. I wouldn’t and didn’t. Amazingly, my last hand, he picked up A-A one more time and Gabriel called a small raise pre-flop, around $600 I believe. Sammy bet the Flop and Gabriel folded. Sammy showed me his hand and said, “Don’t tell him now, Linda.”

Incredible. The pocket pairs were wired into his hard drive somewhere, somehow. I talked to him about and hour and a half later when I was out on a break. Eventually he took all the chips.

My next game was $10-$20 NLH. Morris Chestnut was in the 5s…major actor, all around quiet, good looking hunk of a guy. The 9s played a lot of hands and has my vote for the friendliest, best tipping player I’ve seen in a lot of years. I’d dealt to him in the PLO game the night before. He was in the 9s both nights and liked to chatter with me while I was dealing. Fun! That down didn’t seem to last an hour and a half.

A few games later, I hit a $60-$120 Holdem game that went into overdrive when Donna took the 6 s. I’d dealt to her in the $30-$60 game earlier. She posted between the Button and Blind and picked up A-A. Jonathan – 7s, held Q-9 of Clubs. Jean – 8s, had K-K. The 2s, a blustery, noisy, having a fit kind of middle aged, Middle Eastern guy, had been in the 9s and hopped to the 2s on this hand, held 6-8S, the 5s held the 7C, what his other card was, no one knows.

All the raises went in pre-flop. $1,500 in the pot before a card hit the board…don’t worry, the 2s put in the cap with 6-8. The Flop was 6-8-4 of Clubs. All the bets/raises went in on the Flop.

A King peeled off on the Turn. Somewhere in here, Donna gave up her hand…two RED Aces. The 5s kept requesting the 5C as he called each bet/raise.

The River brought a blank. Jonathan bet, Jean called, and so did the 2s. It took me a week to push all the chips to Jonathan.

The 2s jumped up with, “Fuck. I hate this fucking game,” and did a little waltz around his chair and the end of the table. Honestly, it was hard to be upset with him…I laughed most of the time when he started with a ‘tiz’.

Jean was having a verbal montage of grumble because she had been going to leave when she thought the game was short but it filled back up and she’d taken the Big Blind in this hand, only to lose a huge pot with a Set of Kings.

The 2s wanted to move back to the 9s and was out of position to take a hand so I told him to take one more there. He did. Of course he played it and lost it…ATC worked for him. He moved and didn’t want to post, he wanted to ‘rest’. “You made me stay there. I lost another $1,000 because you made me stay there.”

I tried not to laugh, “I did?”

“Yes. You made me stay there and lose more money!”

I slapped myself on the side of the face and exclaimed, “Bitch!”

Everyone at the table roared. I just kept dealing. The 2s really was harmless and great for the game. I got pushed a moment later, gave him a little finger rub on the back as I went by and headed for the time clock. Hell…he might be there tonight waiting for me to force him to play a hand again.

Pass the drugs please…no, I mean literally pass the drugs to someone else. Who needs them with entertainment like that?